Everything Flickers is an erratic fever dream full of arty easter eggs. The promenade style production allows the audience to freely roam around 2 rooms and direct their attention towards whatever they desire.
Despite many moments where more than one scene may be unravelling simultaneously, it didn’t feel too busy or demanding of your attention. It was more like a fun enticement to follow along with whatever nonsense was happening in the direction you happened to be looking. A fellow patron I was chatting to after the show said it was reminiscent of scrolling Tik Tok.
Clea Purkis in Everything Flickers. Photo by Sophie Minissale.
I realised I shouldn’t take the show too seriously when I walked into a room where Clea Purkis was delivering a monologue in what we were told was French. It took me embarrassingly long to realise that she was actually speaking gibberish.
Despite the silly nature of the monologue, Clea delivered her lines with this quiet intensity that really pulled your attention into the small bubble she created around her. That is, if that was what you happened to be paying attention to at the time.
Clea has a very raw talent, she possesses the ability to set the tone for every scene with or without dialogue. A scene where she is laying in a shallow pool of water towards the end lingers in my memory.
Everything Flickers. Photo by Sophie Minissale.
Nathan Clavert projected his voice in an outwardly confident way, the resonance of his voice rung around the room. His dancing towards the end of the piece was executed with the beautiful refinement of a polished performer.
Providing a harrowing performance, Will Gammel made me feel like I was invited to hear his innermost thoughts. Even though he was frantically running between the rooms for most of the show, he consistently delivered a solid performance. He made it feel like I was living inside an ADHD brain watching the imaginative shenanigans unravel.
Will knew how to gently guide the audience participation in a non-invasive way. Perth audiences, in particular, can be quite conservative. My guest who attended with me noted that when I was the first person to get up and walk into another room to explore the show, it was perceived as bold. Despite that being the very intention of the show, Will slowly warmed the audience up to the idea of them being a part of the show.
Everything Flickers. Photo by Sophie Minissale.
Matt Erren did an excellent job with the lighting. Despite the omnipresence of the audience, he designed it in such a way that it was never glaring in your eyes, not even in the corner of your eyes. There was no centre stage, and he highlighted every simultaneous scene with the equal amount of care they deserved. You were never torn on where to look, nor felt FOMO if you were in another room. There was great joy in those accidental moments where you happened to be standing in a spot that had a scene lit brilliantly.
I particularly liked the opening scene in the first room we enter into, where a projector had books laid out in front of it in a way that made the shadows look like a city skyline. The audience was invited to help Will rearrange those books in dominoes along the path later in the show.
Eliza Smith has directed a show that had me cackling throughout with its very meta humour. The stop drop + roll team’s commentary on the state of arts funding is poignant. Ironically, I don’t get paid to write these reviews.
Everything Flickers is on now at The Blue Room Theatre through to November 16.